


A Rose By Any Other Name

by enigmalea



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Boys Kissing, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Modern Thedas, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, POV Varric Tethras, Past Tense, Pre-Relationship, The Hanged Man (Dragon Age), idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 09:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27468412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmalea/pseuds/enigmalea
Summary: Varric hires a cute dwarven serving girl at The Hanged Man forreasonsand it comes back to bite him in the arse.Hawke leaned heavily on his elbows at the end of the bar, grinning broadly at Rose, who was perched on a bar stool; it was difficult to miss the way her back was curvingjustso to make all of her assets absolutely, irrefutably enticing. She was leaning into their conversation, bright smile plastered on her lightly flushed face, the two of them whispering about something Varric couldn't hear. He bit the inside of his cheek and tried not to dwell on how damnirritatingit was that Hawke felt like he could just relax at the bar when they had aninventoryto complete. Rose, he could let slide. She'd come in early and helped him restock the empty slots behind the bar, but Hawke? He'd walked in five minutes ago and Rose had caught onto him like a thorn in fabric and seemed reluctant as hell to let him go.
Relationships: Male Hawke/Varric Tethras
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36
Collections: A Paragon of Their Kind Dragon Age Dwarf Exchange





	A Rose By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tigereyes45](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigereyes45/gifts).



The Hanged Man pub stood proudly as one of the last shitty establishments in Lowtown, a shining beacon against the evils of encroaching gentrification. In the last two decades, developers had invested heavily in Hightown causing property values to soar. Suddenly, the young professionals who used to make up the upper class property owners of Kirkwall found themselves incapable of affording the steep mortgages it would take in order to buy their dream homes. They flocked in droves to the outer edges of Lowtown, purchasing properties they could afford to beautify... and boy, did they beautify. Where before there were front yards of dirt and balconies which were likely fire code violations, there stood now perfectly landscaped yards, balcony vegetable gardens, and _quirky signs_ proudly displaying such sayings as "Be kind or leaf".

That attracted coffee shops and boutique clothing stores, organic food co-ops, exotic pet stores, hookah bars, and vape shops. The purveyors of goods dubiously procured from the docks who used to fill the open marketplace were slowly edged out by artisans, hydroponic basement "farmers", and that one stay-at-home Mom who sold leggings which cost _60 gold a pair_. They were probably a year or two away from a high class chain electronics retailer... or they would be if not for The Hanged Man

In the handful of city blocks surrounding the pub, there was not a single pair of leggings which cost over 5 gold, a garden sign with any sort of saying... or hell, even a patch of green which could be mistaken for grass. It was rumored to be a rough place with wild brawls and health code violations, and there had been several attempts to have it shut down. 

But the locals knew The Hanged Man for what it really was: a place where the beer was cheap, the food was decent, and you could bring the family without spending your entire paycheck. There were music and billiards, and on Friday nights, a live band. They knew if you needed it, the owners would open a tab for you so you didn't go hungry, and if you promised not to tell anyone - _especially not the cops_ \- you could go into a room in the back and see a healer for free.

Varric Tethras had fought hard to keep The Hanged Man's reputation as a horrible place intact. He and Hawke had poured money into the interior, making it safer, cleaner, and far nicer than it had ever been, while diligently making the exterior look just as rough as it had always been. They weren't quite making money from the venture, but that wasn't really the point. They both had their assets diversified enough that profits were not the aim with the Hanged Man. The community was.

It was 3am on a Friday night, and they'd just managed to get the last patron out of the pub, escorted by the broody elf himself. It wasn't like Fenris was their bouncer, but it wasn't like he wasn't either. The woman he was escorting had broken up with her shitty girlfriend and things were… ugly. She'd drunk until she could hardly stand and even _if_ the neighborhood had improved, none of them were about to look the other way and let her walk home alone.

Hawke half-heartedly swiped the rag over the top of the table he was cleaning as Varric counted down the till. The human let out a heavy sigh, and Varric glanced up from the stacks of cash before him. Garrett Hawke was a beast of a man: tall, broad, and with a beard which would make any other dwarf jealous. "You okay over there?" Varric asked, marking down the amount he'd just counted.

"Hmm?" Garrett's baritone answered in surprise. He looked up from where he was cleaning, confusion written on his face. He obviously hadn't even realized he'd sighed like an angsty teen.

"You sounded broodier than Fenris for a minute. Everything okay?"

"Long night. Just tired," Garrett replied. As if to emphasize his statement he stood up to his full height and stretched. Varric wasn't quite sure what the hell was in the water in Ferelden, but there had to be something. No mage from Kirkwall had ever turned out as thick and burly as Garrett, and Anders - though he wasn't quite as large as the man before him - was just as tall. Had to be the water.

"Want a drink?" Varric asked.

"You offerin' to pay, handsome?" Garrett asked, a grin tugging at his lips as he winked playfully. Varric sighed, rolling his eyes as he grabbed a bottle of whiskey from their stock behind him and poured Garrett a drink, sliding the glass across the wooden counter to him. Hawke's hand made the glass look small, Varric noticed, as his friend claimed the tumbler and took a sip of the whiskey.

The door opened and slammed shut unexpectedly and it took everything Varric had for him not to reach for Bianca under the counter. "We're closed," they called in unison.

"I'm not looking for a drink." The confident tone took Varric by surprise and he turned his attention to where it came from. The voice's owner was just a few inches shorter than him, and her big, sparkling brown eyes (just barely concealed by large, round, silver-rimmed glasses) met his across the bar as her full lips twisted into a smirk. She was difficult to take in all at once. Her bright pink hair was pulled into a braid which draped over her shoulder revealing the shaved sides of her head and the piercings which adorned her ears. His eyes couldn't stop from following the trail of the braid, sweeping over her body. His pulse picked up, his mouth ran dry. _Damn_. "You hiring?"

"Yes," he answered quickly.

"No," Garrett offered in unison.

Varric glared at Hawke, eyes narrowing as he repeated slowly and firmly, "yes." He turned his attention back to the stranger. "You're just the cute Dwarven serving girl we've been looking for, Rose. Welcome aboard."

~~~***~~~

The glass slid across the waxed wooden bar, the familiar scraping sound audible to Varric even above the din of the crowd which had gathered in The Hanged Man on a busy Friday night. Mica Gavorn's (that was Rose's name he'd learned) hand closed around the glass as she plucked it up and placed it onto her serving tray. She grabbed the second glass of ale he slid to her just as easily. "Hey, Pretty Boy," she called back to Fenris in the kitchen, "you got my chili cheese fries for table eight, or am I going to have to come back there and make you give them up?"

The smile on her face didn't fade even as she threatened the broody elf with physical violence, and Varric thought (not for the first time) that it was a damn shame she seemed more interested in Hawke than him. The requested fries appeared in the window just a moment later accompanied by a grunt of acknowledgment. Rose stood on her tiptoes, even though she could reach them just fine without doing so, leaning into the window so that she could see the white-haired elf where he was working. "Have I told you lately you're my favorite man here?" she asked with a broad grin on her face.

"Not tonight," he replied. Varric couldn't be positive, but he almost thought there was a hint of a smile in the broody elf's voice. Couldn't be… could it? Rose grabbed the basket of fries and set them on her serving tray next to the ales, and in a flash, she was gone. Whatever hint of a smile he had heard had been wiped from the elf's face by the time Varric glanced back to look at him. He was met with the typical glower he had become familiar with, and the smallest head tilt of greeting.

Rose was back by his side before Varric had a moment to really think about how she'd expertly won everyone over in the few short days she'd been working there. "I need change for table thirteen, Boss," she said, handing him a ticket and a handful of bills to cover the cost.

Varric took the offered stack, trying not to dwell on how soft the tips of her fingers had felt as they had brushed against his palm. "How come everybody else gets a nickname, but I get Boss?" It wasn't just the nickname, it was the _quality_ of the nickname, as well - Pretty Boy, Big Guy, Siren. They all held an edge of flirtation to them. But him? Just Boss.

"Boss _is_ your nickname," she countered, scrunching up her nose at him as he rang out the table and counted out their change. She was adorable, really, in that “takes none of your bullshit and teases your mercilessly” sort of way.

"Boss isn't a nickname, it's a title, Rose," he replied.

She let out a short, dismissive laugh, accompanied by a shrug of her shoulders. "Same thing."

That pretty much told him everything he needed to know, and really, he should have known better; she was his employee, after all. He forced his face to stay impassive as he handed her the cash. Typical, wasn't it? He finally tried to do something for himself and the favor wasn't returned by the universe. Well, shit.

~~~***~~~

Hawke leaned heavily on his elbows at the end of the bar, grinning broadly at Rose, who was perched on a barstool; it was difficult to miss the way her back was curving _just so_ to make all of her assets absolutely, irrefutably enticing. She was leaning into their conversation, a bright smile plastered on her lightly flushed face, the two of them whispering about something Varric couldn't hear. He bit the inside of his cheek and tried not to dwell on how damn _irritating_ it was that Hawke felt like he could just relax at the bar when they had an _inventory_ to complete. Rose, he could let slide. She'd come in early and helped him restock the empty slots behind the bar, but Hawke? He'd walked in five minutes ago and Rose had caught onto him like a thorn in fabric and seemed reluctant as the sodding Void to let him go.

They erupted into giggles and before he could stop himself, he slammed his clipboard onto the bar top instead of setting it down gently as he'd intended to. The sound echoed in the empty bar while Varric turned on his heel and shuffled off as quickly as he could to the office. He could practically feel their wide eyes burning holes into his back as he ran from the room.

His heart pounded in his chest as he shut the door behind himself. What was _wrong_ with him? Why was he so angry? This wasn't like him at all. She was just a _woman_. They were a dime a dozen, nothing special. Sure, she was _hot_ , but it wasn't like he'd claimed her. Hell, they hadn't even kissed… much less anything else.

Varric took a deep breath, running his hand over his hair while he attempted to will his heartbeat to slow down, beginning to pace in the small office - not that there was much room to pace, just a few steps before he had to turn and go back the other direction again. Still, it gave him something else to do without thinking about it too hard, something else to occupy his mind other than how absolutely infuriating Hawke was.

The light knock on the door took him by surprise, but not as much as Hawke peeking his head in a few seconds after it. Hawke had never knocked before; why would he now? "Everything okay, Varric?" he asked, baritone soothing in the same way it was when he was trying to talk down drunks who were stupid enough to decide they wanted to fight him. That pissed off Varric even more.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," he laughed, but the sound was hollow and forced. Hawke gave him a look which said without words that he definitely didn't believe anything that was coming out of Varric's mouth. The large man stepped into the small office, crossing his arms over his broad chest after shutting the door; Varric suddenly felt like it was too crowded, like he couldn't breathe, and it was hot, and they were too close to one another. His irritation increased.

"You sure? Because you almost broke the clipboard and-"

"I'm sure!" he snapped. Shit. Shit. What was _wrong_ with him? He wasn't mad at Hawke… not really. He wasn't mad at Rose either. So why exactly did them laughing make him feel like he wanted to destroy something?

Hawke narrowed eyes the color of the ocean at him suspiciously, shoving a large hand through his thick, black hair, leaving it sticking up haphazardly as a frown formed on his face. Varric's hand twitched with the urge to smooth it down (what in the _Void?_ ) even though he recognized the gesture for what it was - Hawke buying time while trying to figure out whether or not to call his friend out on his bullshit. He must have decided to go for it because Hawke pushed forward. "I knew you hired her because you thought she was hot, but… you _do_ know there's nothing going on between us, right? She's all yours."

Varric wasn't sure what clenched harder, his jaw or his fists. He should have argued that Rose wasn't anyone's, that she was a free person who could choose whoever she wanted, but something about Hawke's words made him angrier, and Varric was dumber than usual when he was angry. "I'm not that hard up, Hawke. You can have her if you want her. I've got-"

"Bianca?" Hawke spit the name venomously, his dislike of Varric's… whatever she was… clear in his tone.

"Yes." The silence in the office roared in his ears. What exactly was Hawke getting at anyway? Why was he so angry at Varric mentioning Bianca? Why was _Varric_ so angry at mentioning her? Was it that he couldn't remember the last time they'd texted each other? Or was it more?

Hawke scoffed at Varric, rolling his eyes and letting out an over-dramatic sigh. "Yeah, that's working out great for you, isn't it?" he charged. "Not like you're damaging the bar with office supplies or anything." He spun on his heel and threw open the door, slamming it behind him with enough force Varric swore he felt the building shudder.

~~~***~~~

She'd only been there three weeks and she already had everyone wrapped around her little finger. At first, Varric had found it adorable, the way she could smile and flirt and tease just the right way to win everyone over, but now, he thought it might be a little bit dangerous. There was something about her fathomless brown eyes that you could fall into forever, and the sincere smile which put a sparkle in them that he found... unnerving.

It wasn't that he didn't like Rose, really, but he wasn't sure he trusted her. Hell, he trusted Rivaini more and she was a verified thief and a pirate. It wasn't like Rose had lost all of her appeal - it definitely wasn't that - but it was something nameless that caused his stomach to lurch and his breath to catch and he did his damnedest not to think about it too damn much because he was starting to go insane.

Rose sat perched on the edge of the bar as she twirled a lock of bright pink hair which was free of its typical braid around her forefinger. She was watching him with those unnerving brown eyes, swinging her feet idly where they were raised high off the ground. "You _sure_ you don't want my help, Boss?" she asked sweetly, a tone of appreciation clear in her voice.

Varric grunted in response as he wrapped his arms around the keg and lifted it easily off the ground. The weight was no problem, but the size? The kegs were nearly his height and it made trying to move them from the storeroom to the taps a little more than unwieldy.

This was normally Hawke's job.

Thoughts of his best friend caused him to growl in frustration as his knees banged against the metal barrel with each step, and he set the keg back down with a huff after only having made it a short distance. Sweat had gathered on his brow, and he wiped it away in frustration. He could feel her eyes on him and while he normally would have given her a wink and a grin and enjoyed her appreciating the show, now it just annoyed him.

Huh, that was weird.

"I'd be happy to help if you want me to," she called from where she was perched.

"Yeah?" he asked. "Come on, Rose, be my guest." He motioned at the barrel, forcing himself to pretend to be good-natured about her offer, though it was getting on his nerves for some reason.

She pulled out her phone, smirking slightly, and typed away at it before setting it down with a flourish as she grinned down at him from on high. "Voila!" she declared.

He narrowed his eyes at her, crossing his arms over his chest. "What did you do?" he asked skeptically.

"I helped," she replied confidently.

"And _how_ did you help exactly?" he asked, irritation rising. She smiled at him but didn't answer, and he shook his head and let out a soft sigh. He wrapped his arms around the barrel again and lifted. He didn't even get a chance to take a step before the back door which served as the employee entrance to The Hanged Man opened and closed behind him; the metal keg was set down heavily, the _clang_ echoing in the empty bar.

A large hand closed down on his shoulder as Varric glanced up at Hawke; he didn't _have_ to look at him to tell who it was. He could tell by the entrance that was used, the sound of the person's steps, and finally, the way the hand felt on his shoulder. They'd probably known one another too long if he could confidently tell who Hawke was just from those few things, he thought. "Rose said you needed me," Hawke said.

He sighed heavily. He didn't _need_ Hawke, and he especially didn't _need_ him when she was here. "I've got it," Varric protested. Hawke didn't hesitate; he grabbed the keg and lifted it like it was nothing, his longer legs allowing him to move it easily under the bar and attach it to the tap. The ease at which he'd moved the heavy keg was both impressive and managed to make Varric slightly jealous. There were probably some advantages to keeping the burly human around he didn't want to admit.

If he thought about it too hard, it really wasn't fair that Hawke was tall and strong and handsome and so damn charming. Chicks really dug that. 

"You could have waited for me," Hawke said as he stood up. He turned, leaning back against the counter casually. His biceps looked like they might burst out of the arms of his shirt, and Varric had really had about enough of that.

"I didn't have to wait for you. I had it," Varric replied irritably. The silence was thick as the two of them stared at each other. Varric had the sense that they were both waiting for something they had been waiting on for a while, but he had no idea what it could possibly be.

Hawke inhaled deeply and shifted on his feet, finally looking away from Varric. "Are we good on the other kegs?" he asked as he shoved away from the bar.

"The dark lager-" Varric began.

"I'm on it," Hawke replied without hesitation. He let his hand brush against Varric's shoulder as he passed, and Varric shuddered at the gentle touch. 

"Wait! I'll go with you," Rose called as she jumped down from the bar, "I need to get the salt to refill the shakers."

He watched them both disappear into the back and let out a deep breath he wasn't aware he was holding. Something about being around the two of them always got him on edge in ways he wasn't expecting. They were still a couple of hours away from opening, but Varric figured he might as well check the safe to make sure they were good on change. He'd already checked it once, but something was telling him to check again just in case he needed to make a run to the bank.

He peeked his head into the storage room to let Hawke know he'd be in the office and froze in place. Hawke's large hands moved around Rose's waist, fingertips brushing against her bare skin as her top shifted up when she reached. Hawke lifted her easily to the top shelf as she balanced precariously, one hand tangling into his thick black hair as she reached for the salt stored on the top shelf.

"Got it!" she exclaimed, and Hawke began to lower her slowly; her slim body slid against his as her hand slipped through his hair, her fingers teasing the shell of his ear before stroking through his beard as he set her down gently. "Thanks for the help, Big Guy." Rose turned and pressed a kiss to his cheek in thanks before Hawke stood straight.

"Any time," he declared, voice huskier than usual.

"Well, I should get to those shakers," she said, licking her lips as she stared up at Hawke. "They aren't gonna fill themselves, are they, Boss?" Rose sauntered past him before he could kick his brain in gear to reply. His heart was pounding in his chest, his face was flush with anger, even though he couldn't really place why.

"What… what the _fuck_ was that?" Varric snapped.

Hawke glanced over his shoulder at Varric, shrugging slightly. If Varric's rage surprised him, he didn't let it show as he turned to face his business partner. "She needed the salt on the top shelf. Neither of us could reach it."

"T-there's a… _we have a stool…_ which I know for a fact is tall enough for her to reach the top shelf, because I use it for that. What… What were you thinking, Hawke?!"

"Shelf high, tall guy reach," Hawke replied rolling his eyes.

"She… she's our employee!" The scandalous objection sounded hollow even to his own ears, and the ridiculousness of it was confirmed as Hawke let out a scoffing laugh.

"Who you only hired because you thought you might get a chance to fuck her," he challenged.

"Y-yeah… well… health and safety!" he declared. Hawke's brows furrowed as he narrowed his blue eyes at Varric skeptically.

"Health and safety?"

"Health and safety! There are guidelines about the proper ways to reach items on shelves that are too tall. And none of those include… that," he gestured wildly at Hawke. "What if I'd been an inspector!? What if… what if they were trying to shut us down again? What if-"

"Ahhhh… yes. How could I forget the grave and horribly dire law against teamwork between a human and dwarf to reach salt on a high shelf. What is that? Statute 6.1.2?"

His words failed him. Normally Hawke's wit and sarcasm was fun to play off of but this? This was just irritating. "Screw you, Hawke."

His smirk faded, face relaxing into a concerned expression as his eyes widened. "Varric, are you okay?" he asked sincerely.

He didn't know how to reply, because clearly, he wasn't okay. He was mad. Livid. But he wasn't really sure why, and that would be the next question. _Why_ are you so upset?

"Hey, Boss. Can you bring the pepper?"

Andraste's tits, Varric had never been happier to hear Rose call for him. He grabbed the pepper off the shelf, and without a word to Hawke turned to take it to the server. She gave him a bright grin as he held the spice out for her to take. Instead, she grabbed the nearly empty pepper shaker from the table and dropped it into his hand. He unscrewed the lid silently and slid into the booth across from her.

"You okay, Boss?" she asked sweetly, looking up at him through very long, very distracting lashes. Why in the Void was everyone asking him that?

He tried to force his face to relax as he answered softly, "yeah. Fine."

"You… uh… know Garrett and I are just messing around, right?" she asked. Varric tipped the pepper into the shaker, watching it fall into the glass container slowly. "I mean… he's not into me, and I'm not into him."

"It's fine if you are," Varric said after a long silence. He was starting to feel a bit like a chastised child between the two of them. "I'm not _jealous_ that you're interested in him more than you are me."

Rose laughed and then fell silent, blinking her wide eyes at him. "Oh… you're… serious." She hummed to herself as she reached for another of the salt containers and unscrewed the lid. "Boss… does it bother you when I flirt with Pretty Boy… or Siren… or any of the customers?"

"No," Varric replied quickly, easily, because it was the truth. Rose’s flirtatious manner had never bothered him.

"So… you're only upset if it's Garrett, then?" she asked, as she picked up the salt and tipped it into the salt shaker. Varric clenched his jaw tightly, but couldn't answer the question. "Maybe you should… think about that."

"He _is_ my best friend. It's usually considered poor form for your best friend to go after a woman you think is attractive," Varric answered, screwing the lid back on the pepper shaker. "That's different than you flirting with other people."

"Oh yeah?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking at him. "That's it? And it's _not_ that I'm flirting with _him_? Good to know."

Varric's stomach clenched in response to the accusation behind her question. _Oh._

~~~***~~~

It was quiet in The Hanged Man. It had been a slow weeknight, and they'd had the cleaning done before the bar had officially closed; the staff had been eager to get home, and no one had lingered too far past closing time. Garrett had claimed a barstool at the end of the bar and was waiting not so patiently for Varric to finish counting up the till; he was laying on the bar, using one arm for a pillow, heavy blue eyes watching Varric as he counted… well… recounted actually. He'd been trying to figure out how to say what he thought he should say, but he hadn't quite figured out exactly how, yet.

"You… want a drink?" he asked softly, glancing up from the stack of bills in his hand.

"Nah, just… wanna go home," Garrett replied impatiently. He yawned as if to emphasize his words.

"You don't have to wait," he answered, instantly regretting the words that came out of his mouth.

"And let you walk home alone through this dangerous part of Lowtown?" Garrett asked grinning at him. "What kind of man do you take me for?"

He clenched the bills in his hand harder, ignoring the fact he was supposed to be pretending to count. His hand was shaking as he set the stack of money back into the till. He couldn't do this anymore, couldn't draw it out. It wasn't that he was afraid Hawke would think any less of him… no, he knew his friend was… indiscriminate with his lovers. It was just… they were friends… and business partners, and that complicated things. A lot.

Time seemed to move in slow motion as he crossed the short distance between them and moved to stand across from his friend. "Garrett, we should probably talk," he said softly.

Hawke sat up slowly, blinking at him as if he didn't quite understand what was being said to him. To be fair, maybe he didn't. "What did you call me?" he asked.

Varric ignored the question and pressed on. "I'm sorry… for earlier… for… overreacting. For all of the times I’ve overreacted. I was being stupid. I… was just jealous."

"You have nothing to be jealous of," Garrett replied with a heavy sigh. Varric was suddenly aware of the depth of the sigh, as if Garrett was deep down tired of _something_ about Varric and he’d just avoided saying anything. "I told you if you want Mica, you can have-"

"I don't want Rose," Varric interrupted. "Well… I wouldn't say no if she offered, but that's not the point I'm making. I'm not _jealous_ because you're flirting with Mica. Well… I am. But it's… complicated."

Hawke leaned closer to him across the bar, narrowing his eyes and licking his lips. They were nice lips, Varric thought idly… and really, how long had he been thinking shit like that without questioning it? "Complicated how?"

"Well-"

"Complicated like you want to share her? Because I wouldn't say no if-"

"Andraste's sweet sacred ass, Garrett!" Varric exclaimed. "That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that I'm jealous because it's _you_ flirting with her. It's the you part that-"

"Ah," Garrett exhaled slowly. Varric held his breath. Was that it? Was that his only response? "So… it's me?" he asked leaning closer. It was suddenly hot in the bar, uncomfortably so, and Varric wasn't sure he could focus enough to be coherent, which was really dumb if you thought about it. Garrett had been much closer to him over the years they’d known one another.

"Yeah, it's you," he whispered. His eyes falling back down to Garrett's lips. "It's… been you for a while now."

The lips he was watching twisted into a smirk. "Yeah?"

Garrett was clearly just fucking with him now. He leaned in and claimed Hawke’s lips. It wasn't what he expected. He wasn't expecting them to be so soft or pliant, he wasn't expecting Hawke to part his lips so eagerly, or to lean across the counter as he reached for Varric's face. He'd never kissed someone with a beard before, and it tickled his lips and sent a thrill through him which made his heart pound in his chest. They were both panting as they broke away from one another, Garrett's thumb teasing his cheek with gentle strokes which sent a thrill down his spine.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that," Garrett whispered, smiling at him.

"I… think I've got some idea," Varric laughed.

"You should put the cash in the vault, so we can get out of here and head home." Hawke's tone was more hesitant than Varric expected, as if he wasn't quite sure what Varric might say.

"Together, right?" Varric whispered.

He was rewarded with a broad grin from his best friend. "Together."


End file.
